Conversations
by omalleyanatomy26
Summary: Set in season 2. Reid is forced to see a therapist, a fic based on the conversations between him and the therapist as he tries to move on from what happened to him,


**Just an idea I've been interested in. **

Reid sat on the couch.

"Why am I here?"

The man next to him sighed and crisscrossed his legs.

"You know why."

"Because Hotch thinks I can't do my job."

The therapist shook his head.

"No, because it's required for someone to see a therapist after going through a traumtic event."

"I don't think I qualify."

"Really?" The man looked interested. "You don't think being drugged and tortured for two days is traumatic?"

"It is, but I can still do my job. Others have gone through worse."

"We're not talking about others Dr. Reid. We're talking about you. And this has nothing to do with whether or not you can do your job."

Reid sighed and prused his lips. He said nothing.

_"Damn it, Hotch, I don't need a therapist!"_

_"Don't argue with me Reid! You need help! You're not expected to completly rebound and act like everything's all right!"_

_"I'm not going."_

_"You have to. If you don't, I'm forced to let you go."_

_"Oh, so basically it's either go have some shrink tell me I'm crazy or you'll fire me?"_

_"Reid-"_

_"I'm not weak, Hotch! I don't need a therapist!"_

"I'm not weak."

The therapist lookd at him, interest peaking in his eyes.

"I never said you were."

Reid shifted uncomfortable on the couch. He hated being studied like this. Being profiled.

"Everyone thinks I'm weak."

"I see." Reid watched him jot something down. His eyes shifted around the room, anaylizing it.

There was silence.

"Aren't you going to say anything?" Reid asked.

"This is up to you for how much you get out of this, Dr. Reid."

What a bullshit line, this is why he hated therapists. Making it feel like it was up to him to get all the answers.

"I don't need help from you! Or anyone."

"Is needing help such a bad thing?"

_Yes cause if you need it enough they'll lock you up...like mom._

"It is if you can do it by yourself," he retorted and the therapist smiled.

"Touche."

Silence emerged again and the therapist sighed.

"Can I ask something?" Reid looked up. "Is there a particular reason you are so resistent to therapy? Other than it not being your idea?"

Reid said nothing for a while

"I don't like people trying to get into my head."

"I understand, your mind is very unique. Every mind is unique but yours is more so." The therapist's voice was soft and kind but Reid wasn't fooled by him. He had a hidden agenda. Everyone did. "While you could say I am trying ot get into your head it's not to poke around, it's to understand you better. So I can help you deal with whatever it is you're going through."

"THAT'S the thing!" Reid straightened up and the man looked surprised at the sudden outburst. "I'm NOT going through anything! People think I need help but I DON'T! I've MOVED ON!"

The therapist, Carl, sighed.

"I don't think you're being entirely honest, Dr. Reid."

"Don't try and act like you know me,"Reid shot at him. "Because you don't."

But Carl continued as if he wasn't interrupted.

"I think you want to convince yourself that you have moved on. Because if you haven't that means you'll have to let people in. Let them help you, and you hate people helping you because you're afraid of being seen as weak. Partly because of your age, but more so it's because of your mother and how sick she is. You don't want people to end up having to take care of you like you did with her."

Reid stared at him, shock filled him.

"H...How did you know about her? My mother?"

"I do a background check on all my patients." Carl spoke calmly. "Since they are all FBI agents it's a necessity so I can better understand them."

Reid swallowed.

"I see." He was momentarily stunned by this fairly accurate portrayel of him and his fears.

Carl continued.

"I can also sense that you are worried about going crazy."

Reid's eyes shot up.

"How did you get that?"

"You don't like people poking around in your head. You don't like it because you are afraid of what they'll find."

Reid was silent.

"And because of both of these reasons I can't think that you have moved on. You just don't want to face the truth because you are afraid of what you'll find there. You are afraid that by facing it you will snap and be considered weak. So because of this you pretend that everything is fine and repress all emotions towards what happened. But, Dr. Reid, I am here to tell you repression is not a form of dealing with it. It'll make things worse and sooner or later you _will _snap if you don't let people in. If you don't let us help you. And asking for help doesn't make you weak. It takes a strong person to know when they can't do something by themselves."

Reid couldn't talk. He could barely breathe. He didn't like Carl hitting so close to home. How did he know him so well? They barely knew each other for an hour.

"So I am here to wait, for you to realize that you do need help," Carl continued slowly. "And I'm willing to wait as long as it takes, Dr. Reid. We all are. It's time you realized that you aren't alone and you don't have to go through everything alone."

Reid sighed and rubbed his forehead.

"But I can do it alone," he presisted. He just couldn't cave in, not so quickly.

Carl smiled at that.

"I know, but you don't have to. Let us in, Spencer. Just let us in."

Reid shook his head.

"Why not?"

"Because," he finally whispered. "Because of I'm afraid."

"Of what?"

"Of what you'll find. I'm afraid of me."

**This is very different from most of my fics, so I hope you all like it!**


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